


white

by lunasea444



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Hospitals, M/M, Oumasai Week, Post-Canon, Rambling, Virtual Reality, i cant draw rn so i shat this out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 22:18:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19260250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasea444/pseuds/lunasea444
Summary: "Sorry I couldn't make it last week, Ouma-kun." The young man softly says as he lingers by the door.for the twitter oumasaiweek2k19 day 2... postgame babeyall over the plaxe and drabble-y





	white

"Sorry I couldn't make it last week, Ouma-kun." The young man softly says as he lingers by the door. Shuichi closes the door behind him gently, though not before catching the nurses outside giving him glances as they whispered among each other.

It's fine. Let them talk. Let them say whatever.

They don't know a damn thing.

The door clicks. He sets down the small box beside Kokichi's table. The computer and the machines hummed the same tune they always had when he visited. Dull golden eyes trace the multitude of wires extending from the contraptions, all the way down to the boy laying on the bed.

He's so pale. His skin taut from time's own curse. The lack of nourishment now showing itself for those who watch him in his slumber. His hair is growing longer than how he kept his usual curls and the highlights, though still there, seem to gradually dull a hue.

Shuichi's eyes have memorised everything at this point, after all his visits. But the pang in his heart whenever he looks at his frail body never changes.

He replaces the flowers in Kokichi's room. It's a routine he does every time he visits—every week.

——•☆•——

_"His death is the most violent among the cast and each student participating in the game," the doctor said. Though he was a doctor, he was still a part of Team Danganronpa—and that's the fact that Shuichi just couldn't trust. Though the man had obviously gentle wrinkles wrapping his kind facade, he still helped in the creation of... this damned game._

_"It might take a while before he wakes up. It could take months... up to years. You've seen it yourself, Saihara-kun. Even if you and your fellow survivors didn't suffer death inside the virtual reality world, it still took a while for one of you to wake up."_

_Shuichi's lip tightened into a thin line. It took Himiko two months to wake up._

_"What more for someone who thought they died thinking their bones and body have all been crushed?"_

_Shuichi's fist clenched._

_————_

_Sometimes, a bouquet would be present. Shuichi made note of when it would appear. Every two weeks a basket would be in the room, before he would get there. Finally the time came when he'd find out who the visitor would be._

_A short woman with a petite stature, hair glamorously curled, accompanied by a man who looks years younger than her. He had wild dark hair sticking in directions that struggled between greying and purple beneath the hospital's bright lights. When he bit his thumb, that's when Shuichi realised who he was looking at._

I didn't know they cared for him. From what I could gather from the memories of the person who I used to be before the game, it didn't seem like they're the doting kind. Much less even remember they had a kid. But there they are now.

_He hoped in his heart that they had a change of heart for their son. One visit every two weeks, though after much research later on it wasn't surprising that they barely had time for him.  
_

——•☆•——

Finally done with replacing the flowers he left last week, he seats himself just beside the boy deep in slumber. Wheels the side table just beside him near Kokichi's bed, with the box he had placed neatly on top, accompanied by a small paper plate and two plastic forks.

"It's almost your birthday, according to my phone... so I brought you cake."

Shuichi isn't a big fan of sweets, but it seems Kokichi was. He opens the box, revealing a small cake—cut in half it could fill in two people.

"... granted you can't really eat it, the way you are right now... so I'll eat it for you." He turns to him.

He takes in the sight of the boy resting on the bed. Machines still abuzz, and the dropper still stuck on the boy's stick of an arm. Shuichi is sitting on the opposite side where none of the instruments would get in between them, so he takes the boy's limp hand, his thumb brushing between his small, bony knuckles.

"How long have you been asleep already, Ouma-kun?" It's a question that burns in his mind and dissipates from his lips every week, but no one ever answers back. He wishes the boy before him would be the one to answer the question, but he never does. It isn't as if Shuichi doesn't know how long it's already been—at least it felt like he was talking to Kokichi, still.

He brushed the finger that he bandaged so many ages ago, at least in a virtual world.

Shuichi visits every week. Why? Is it because of what he's said to Kokichi, just before he met his end? Is it because he felt bad that he wanted to know him better, and even told Kokichi he would figure out his truth no matter what? Does Shuichi feel bad—because in the end, Kokichi never truly was a bad person like he made himself out to be?

Maybe so. Shuichi is drawn to Kokichi, and he never knew why. On the day he woke up from the simulation, when he found out that everyone was in fact alive—the first person he looked for was Kokichi.

He never knew why, not until he was discharged at least.

Photos, texts, messages... though some were unsavory, they all point to one fact.

Kokichi was an important person in his life, before Danganronpa. And he continued to be, even when he forgot.

He pulls the boy's limp hand towards him, pressing his lips against his knuckle.

His mind forgot, but his heart never did. It's almost cliche, really.

He sighs, squeezing Kokichi's hand gently between his.

Cake forgotten—he's spending the night over, so he'll just eat it tomorrow, when he wakes up. For the night, he lingers there, back hunched over the side of his beloved's bed, until he falls asleep.

Shuichi wonders, if he has the right to be here in this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> i cant draw atm bc my hands wknt stop shaking so i shat this out  
> Havent written in ages so this is all wonkey and weird...


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